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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175384">Dangerous Games</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulTinkerer/pseuds/MissBegottenLit'>MissBegottenLit (SoulTinkerer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Cool Fade Stuff, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Most Dangerous Game Rip-off, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:40:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulTinkerer/pseuds/MissBegottenLit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dorian refuses to return home with his father, Halward Pavus resorts to desperate measures to get his son back. </p>
<p>When the Iron Bull is captured by Venatori, the Inquisition resorts to desperate measures to get their Quanri back. </p>
<p>When Dorian and Iron Bull begin running into each other in the Fade, things get complicated...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> “It's not that I don’t appreciate the effort,” Dorian said, “but if you’re going to tempt me, you really should do your research first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A voluptuous woman stood before him, clad in sheer and buttery soft fabric that clung to her curves and left nothing to the imagination. There was a brief shimmer of violet light, a crack in the facade through which Dorian could glimpse the Desire demon's true form. He had just enough time to make out the curled horns sprouting from its head before the mask was back, and the horns were replaced with silky, golden hair that spilled over her shoulders. She was objectively beautiful, but her beauty was not the kind he desired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorian huffed out a sigh. "What I mean is that these specific charms are completely wasted on me." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nevertheless, Desire sauntered toward him. Was it bravery or stupidity that kept him from retreating? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My dear boy," the demon said, her voice tinkling with laughter.  "You misunderstand my intentions."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was neither, he decided. Curiosity was what kept him rooted to the spot. That curiosity only increased when the demon sidled up to him, pressing her breasts ever so lightly against his chest. It wasn't heat that radiated from her form, but electricity. He'd faced temptation and desire on a nearly nightly basis for more than twenty years, but no demon had ever approached him in this form or in this manner. It was far too easy to assume this particular demon was simply inept at seduction, so he had to wonder... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are not here to face temptation," she said, taking his face in her hands. She pulled him down into a soft kiss, her lips tingling with electricity beneath his own. Dorian's surprise and curiosity kept him from pulling away immediately. The kiss deepened and the demon's tongue slipped into his mouth. Trying desperately to forget that she tasted like rust and burnt hair, Dorian managed to break the kiss. He didn't get far. Her hands clamped onto his face, sharp fingernails digging into his skin, and she hissed, "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> the temptation."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time since entering the fade, their surroundings came into focus. The setting the demon chose for this ill-fated attempt at seduction was his childhood bedroom. Everything from the Antivan rug to the scorch marks on the windowsill was exactly as it had been in the waking world. He thought the demon was the only thing out of place until he saw him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Standing behind Desire, beaming with pride and joy, was his father. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The 'vint was twitchy. As they marched through the Hinterlands, the Iron Bull made sure to hang back he could keep his eye on him. It was as much for Dorian's benefit as for anyone else's. Twice on their way to Redcliffe they were ambushed by rogue Templars. The first time, Dorian had barely reacted. By the time he seemed to notice what was going on, Bull had already reduced the Templar's skull to reddish goo, and Lavellan and Varric had peppered the other two with arrows.</p>
<p>"You plannin' on waking up today?" Bull asked. </p>
<p>Dorian blinked and almost managed to hide his surprise. He quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow, surveyed the carnage amongst the lush greenery, and said, "And deprive you of the opportunity to hit things? Surely you don't think I'm that selfish."</p>
<p>"Could've fooled me," Varric said, sliding Bianca back into her holster.</p>
<p>"I expect many things fool you, Varric," Dorian replied. "After all, it is so easy for things to go over your head."</p>
<p>The two of them bickered while Lavellan went through the dead men's pockets. Bull wasn't one to say no to free loot, but the boss was something else. He contented himself with using a dead man's trousers to clean the blood off his hammer and kept an eye on Dorian. Verbal sparring matches between the 'vint and the dwarf were always entertaining. Today Dorian was too bright, too sharp. Like someone had brought a stiletto to the practice ring while their opponent had only brought a stick. </p>
<p>So yeah, the 'vint was twitchy, and Bull didn't like it. After all, the last couple times they'd been in Redcliffe, there had been demons and Venatori and creepy time magic shit, and he could go the rest of his life without seeing any of that again, thank you very much. Dorian hadn't so much as batted an eye at most of it, so what the holy fuck had their friendly, neighborhood 'vint wound this tight?</p>
<p>The second time they ran into trouble on the road they had just entered a copse of trees. The sunlight shining through the leaves reminded Bull of the stained glass windows of Haven's Chantry. Having just one eye was a real bitch for one's depth perception, but Bull still caught the shadow moving in the dappled sunlight. He barely had time to shift his weight and tighten his grip on his hammer before blue-hot flame burst from Dorian's fingertips. The poor sap had the serious misfortune of crossing Dorian's path on a particularly shitty day, apparently. He barely had time to scream before his charred remains hit the forest floor, the acrid scents of burning hair and cooking flesh ruining the pleasant breeze they had been enjoying. </p>
<p>The roasted man's friends made quite the racket as they ran away. </p>
<p>"Well, they might be cowards, but at least they're smart cowards," Varric said.</p>
<p>Lavellan was staring at Dorian. She seemed vaguely scandalized. "Where was all that firepower when that quillback was trying to drag me back to its burrow?"</p>
<p>"It was biding its time in order to avoid melting your face off," Dorian said and brushed a bit of soot off his sleeve. "Now may we continue on, or did you want to loot some ashes off the poor man?"</p>
<p>Lavellan rolled her eyes and they started down the road again. It wasn't long before Redcliffe came into view. The nest of little huts was buzzing with activity. There was a giant damn hole in the sky, but people still found a way to go on with their lives. Bull supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. If the people of Seheron had managed to get up every morning, cook their meals, and wash their clothes with that shitstorm raging around them, then the people of Redcliffe could barter for fish and their children could play hide-and-seek in the square. </p>
<p>They entered Redcliffe proper with little fanfare. Bull was more than used to the stares he got in Ferelden. Not many farmers in the south had ever seen a Qunari. More interesting were the stares and happy waves Lavellan received. Watching the villagers smile and wave was almost as heart-warming was watching their dear Inquisitor smile and wave back without a single thought for decorum. Lady Josephine had her work cut out for her, if she really planned on presenting this bouncy Dalish elf to the Orlesian court. </p>
<p>They stopped outside the Gull and Lantern, and Bull was just beginning to think they'd have time for a drink when the boss turned to him and Varric and said, "Would you mind waiting out here? We have some business inside..." she trailed off and glanced at Dorian. He was staring at the door as if it had already insulted him and was in the process of insulting all his ancestors. </p>
<p>"Sure thing, boss," Bull said. He settled down on a bench beside the door and forced his shoulders to relax. He'd learned a long time ago that people put a lot of stock in his body language. If the big guy was tense, everyone else was too. </p>
<p>Varric sat beside him. He had to hop a little to get the job done, but he managed just fine. "If you want any backup..."</p>
<p>"I'm sure flames and lightening will serve as an adequate signal," she said with a small smile. She looked to Dorian. "Ready?"</p>
<p>With a jerky nod, he opened the door, and they both disappeared inside. </p>
<p>In the end, there weren't any flames or bursts of lightning. There was, however, quite a bit of shouting. Neither the Iron Bull nor Varric was above eavesdropping. Varric was probably on the lookout for fodder for his next pulp novel, but Bull was following orders. There was a lot for the Ben-Hassrath to learn from the Inquisition. His superiors wanted to hear all there was to know about Lavellan, the Breach, Skyhold, and the Inquisition's forces, but they had also taken a particular interest in Dorian. After all, it wasn't every day a prodigal Altus ventured south on his own. Unfortunately, Bull didn't catch much more than raised voices--Lavellan's, Dorian's, a third voice he didn't recognize...</p>
<p>It continued on like that, the angry voices in the inn a drumbeat beneath the lives of Redcliffe. By the time the door burst open, Bull had memorized the guards' rotation schedule and noticed the woman wearing an ill-fitting Chantry Sister's habit was skimming money from the charity plate. Dorian stormed out and set off down the road without a backward glance. Lavellan soon appeared, looking only slightly less pissed off than Dorian. </p>
<p>Bull bit back a groan as he put his weight on his bad knee and hurried to follow. </p>
<hr/>
<p>The evening passed with little acknowledgment of their activities that afternoon. Lavellan made awkward small talk and tried to look like she wasn't hovering around Dorian like he was an expensive and fragile vase set on a rickety table. Dorian simply brooded, his face full of dark thunderclouds while lightning danced on his twitching fingers. </p>
<p>Varric entertained them all well enough with stories of Kirkwall. Apparently the Champion had an affinity for Ferelden Ale and passing out under tables when she had enjoyed too many of them. The scouts at camp enjoyed a few of his well-told (and undoubtedly exaggerated) tales before trailing off to bed a few at a time. Varric and Lavellan yawned their good nights and went off to their respective tents, leaving just Bull and Dorian to sit in companionable silence and stare into the dying embers of the fire. </p>
<p>"If you want a tent to yourself, be my guest," Bull said, gesturing at the tent to his left. "I'm planning on sleeping outside tonight." It was a beautiful night. The breeze was gentle and still warm with the smells of summer. The night sky was clear and the stars shimmering like fireflies skimming across a perfectly still pond. It was a good time to meditate, to fall upward into those stars and float on dreamless sleep until morning.</p>
<p>That, and he was getting damn tired of catching his horns on the canvas walls of the tent. </p>
<p>"Thank you," Dorian said. In the dancing glow of the fire Bull saw him close his eyes and rub his temples. "But I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."</p>
<p>"Rough day." It wasn't a question, and therefore Dorian didn't need to answer.  "Do you want to--"</p>
<p>"No, I do not want to talk about it," Dorian snapped. He seemed to instantly regret it.</p>
<p class="">Metaphors had always been useful to the Iron Bull. They were a way to focus the mind and summon the right type of energy needed in any given situation. He waited a beat, imagining a glacier sliding down a mountain--slow, steady, inevitable--before he replied. "I was going to ask, do you want to hit something?"</p>
<p>Surprise seemed to make Dorian momentarily forget his foul mood. "Hit something?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, you're pissed off, I get it. You gotta let off some steam."</p>
<p>With a snap of his fingers, fire sparked to life in his palm. "I'm no stranger to letting off steam, Iron Bull."</p>
<p>"Not with magic. Not with words either, with your body!" He stood, clenched his fists and shook them at Dorian to emphasize his point. "Nothing better than being too tired to lift your arms, especially when you're angry." </p>
<p>Dorian stared at him, his mouth slightly agape, before he shrugged in a way that said, <em>This might as well happen. </em>"Alright," he said, standing. "What am I hitting?"</p>
<p>"Me!" Bull said.</p>
<p>Dorian's eyes narrowed immediately, and Bull could see the calculations happening in his mind. Dorian had joined the Inquisition six weeks before--not a lot of time to get to know someone, especially someone from a culture constantly at war with one's own. But it was enough time for Bull to watch the nefarious Tevinter Magister as he interacted with the people of Skyhold. Either Bull was getting rusty, or Dorian couldn't be nefarious if he tried. Bull just couldn't see it in him. That didn't stop people from harboring suspicions against him. More than once Bull had caught a vicious comment lobbed Dorian's way. If Dorian were smart--and Bull would bet his life he was--he'd be wondering if this was some kind of trick. </p>
<p>"C'mon, hit me!" Bull said, pounding his own chest and tightening gut. "Are you afraid you'll hurt me?"</p>
<p>"No. I'm more afraid you'll laugh at me," he said. "I can't recall ever punching anything."</p>
<p>Now they were getting somewhere, even though Bull wasn't entirely sure how to phrase this particular bit of information in his report back to the Ben-Hassrath.  <em>The Altus can incinerate a man with a thought, but good news! We can just laugh at him and he'll be defeated. </em>Maybe the information wouldn't help his superiors, but it sure helped Bull. Spy or not, he would be trusting his life to this man for the foreseeable future. Getting to know him was a matter of survival.</p>
<p>"Hit me! Just not in the face--I gotta stay pretty for those redhead twins who started working at the Rest."</p>
<p>Dorian actually smiled at that before rolling his eyes and sniffing. "I'd hate to ruin their good time." He faced Bull and brought his clenched fists up, feet flat on the ground. After one last encouraging nod from Bull, he jabbed out with his right fist.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thwack</em>
</p>
<p>The punch landed solidly on Bull's tense and waiting stomach. "Good!" Bull said. If there was laughter in his voice, it was a surprised, joyous laughter rather than anything mocking. The punch was nothing special. Dorian was a strong man--much stronger than most mages Bull had run into, as a matter of fact--but he lacked the technique needed to really deliver a solid hit. "Again, but this time, really dig in with your back foot..."</p>
<p>
  <em>Thwack</em>
</p>
<p>"Don't just hit me with your arm. It's a full-body motion." </p>
<p><em>Thwack</em> </p>
<p>"Yeah, like that! Again."</p>
<p>
  <em>Thwack</em>
</p>
<p>In the end, Dorian was the one who called it off. By that time, they were both sweating and gasping and Dorian had developed a mean right hook. </p>
<p>"How do you feel?" Bull asked. </p>
<p>"Exhausted," Dorian said. He looked down at his hands and shook them a bit to loosen the stiff muscles. "If I can't hold my staff tomorrow, I'm telling Lavellan it's your fault." </p>
<p>There was no real venom in his voice, so Bull let himself smile in an ornery kind of way. "Told ya. Your mind can't think so hard when your body can't stay awake."</p>
<p>"Well, that was surprisingly... surprising, I suppose," Dorian said, still breathing hard. "I think I will take you up on your offer. For the tent, I mean. Thank you."</p>
<p>"Anytime," Bull said and waved him off. </p>
<p>Dorian retired for the evening, disappearing into the tent with a whisper of fabric. Bull found the softest bit of grass and settled down for what he expected would be the best night's rest he'd had in a long time. The breeze cooled his hot face. The stars stretched out above him, continuing their incessant wandering.</p>
<p>And then Dorian started talking in his sleep. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm trying to come up with a schedule for posting new chapters. How often is too often? I don't want to be a weirdo who's always at the top of the fic list...</p>
<p>Also, I am NOT good at writing relatively light-hearted stories. Not that this will be 100% light-hearted, but I am aiming for a slightly more cheery story than my usual fare. I hope I'm doing ok. </p>
<p>Thanks for reading! :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok SO--first fic in this fandom. I'm a little late to the Dragon Age Party, but boy is it a fun one :) </p>
<p>I'm going to work on posting this fic more frequently than my past fics... part of my plan to accomplish that is to have shorter chapters, so here is a mini-prologue lol</p>
<p>I will also be updating the tags as the story unfolds. </p>
<p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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